Work Text:
The radio warbles some cheery tune as Lily paints the bedroom walls. James was out doing one of Dumbledore's 'requests'. They never called them missions because that would suggest they know the objective and more often than not they simply don't. She doesn't know where he is exactly, just that he won't be back until tomorrow, enough time to air out the room of the paint smell she thinks. She'll kip on the couch tonight. It's just one night.
She's wearing old dungarees, James had made fun of her when she bought them, said she looked like a farmer and had started singing '"Old McEvans had a farmI". She'd huffed at him and thrown the hanger at his face as he laughed. He had ducked grabbed her round the waist and thoroughly distracted her. She'd stowed them in a wardrobe later and promptly forgot about them but now they are perfect painting clothes, and she smiles as she imagines his face if he walked in and saw her in them.
But he won't, not tonight. She sighs, shakes her head. It's ridiculous to miss him already. He left just after lunch and it's only nearing 9pm.
She's on her tiptoes on a stepladder reaching up to the corner above the door when the patronus appears. The stag skids to stop in the centre of the room, the light blinding her for a quick second as she shields her eyes behind her thick paintbrush.
Then it speaks, no, James speaks directly to her.
"Lily, I love you," it's a frantic whisper and her heart stops. "There's no time, but I needed to - you're everything to me, fuck I hope you know that? I'll be thinking of you, I always think of you. I'm so sorry, I love you, I love-"
His desperate voice cuts off abruptly and the paintbrush slips from her fingers. The light fades from the room, the dark shadows cast from its light receding like the breath from her lungs.
She doesn't remember getting down from the steps with shaky legs, she doesn't remember running to the front door and throwing it open but she does take pause as she passes the garden gate to stare up and down the street willing James to appear in a crack. If she wills it enough...
It takes her three attempts to produce her own patronus and even still it's fading at the edges not quite the confident doe she's used to. She cannot send it to James as much as every cell in her body is screaming for her to do so, she can't because if he's hiding she will not be the one to give him away.
So she thinks of Sirius, no thoughts of James could possibly work right now, she thinks of him trying to charm that stupid bike of his different colours and his thrilled exclamation when Lily had turned it a hideous lime green easily.
Her patronus flies through the night to him wherever he is, with a single sentence, panicked, bereft.
"Please find him, use the mirror, something, oh god Sirius find him."
She stumbles back into their house. Their house. Her legs finally give out as she passes the ugly armchair that Euphemia had passed off to them, Lily grips the arms as her body caves with a sob. She's never experienced fear like this, suddenly feeling like she may throw up with the rolling in her stomach.
She doesn't know how long she allows herself to simply break, it feels like moments but when she comes back to herself the room is darker, night has descended.
She realises she doesn't have her wand, where was the last place she had it? A sudden rush of adrenaline hits her now, how can she help James if she doesn't have her fucking wand. He could be dying somewhere and she's doing nothing to help, nothing. She's frantically running from room to room when she hears the front door open.
He appears at their door, god it was nearly just her door. He's bloodied, but walking with the confident grace he always has and his face splits into the widest grin as he sees her.
"I'm dead for not even 2 hours and the dungarees make a comeback? I thought you had more respect for me than that!"
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?" She flies across the room at him and his arms open to receive her and-
She's hitting him, pummelling his chest with her fists.
"Don't you ever send me a message like that ever again," she's openly crying, pounding every inch of him she can reach and he's flinching away from her.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry I just-" he grabs her wrists to pull her in tight. His arms surround her, pinning her body close to his. The pressure is almost too much but she needs it, god she needs it.
"I thought that was it and I was afraid you'd never," he pauses to swallow past the lump in his throat "you'd always wonder what had happened and I needed you to know that no matter what my last thoughts were of you, of course they were."
Arms raise around his neck, her nose brushes his throat. She knows her tears are soaking through the jumper he wears.
"I love you." she chokes. "But we're going to have a big fight about this later, ok? But not now." She pulls back, hands now soft on either side of his face. He's looking tenderly at her like he's committing her face to memory.
"Huge fight," he whispers back smiling. "Thank you for getting Padfoot-" her hands tighten, grip his collar, "he um, didn't want to see this, he'll pop by tomorrow."
A hysterical noise burst from her lips, it's half laugh half sob.
"You're making me a mirror, I shouldn't have to-"
"Tomorrow, first thing tomorrow I promise."
The room is almost completely dark now, Lily's tears have subsided but her heart is still racing, her stomach still feels hollow.
His fingers toy with the button by her shoulder.
"We're safe Lily, we're both safe, but more importantly what can we do about getting these off?"
"You prick."
"Massive fight, tomorrow."